I just thought you'd like to know that in case it's bad luck and I get invaded by the rest of its extended family looking for revenge.
Mother is still very ill although she did say this morning that she's not coughing up black stuff from her lungs anymore. Thank you, Ma, that finished breakfast off nicely. Shingles haven't progressed and lung rot looks to be under control. She still doesn't feel strong enough to get out of bed though.
Oh me, well I'm still here and happy the dvd player is fixed. A big thank you to Ann O'Dyne for reminding me I hid licorice allsorts in the desk drawer next to the computer. I have done not a thing all day except read a book and I had to speak to myself most severely in order to sit and read and not feel guilty that the dishes are not washed (when are they ever) and the groceries are sitting on the floor from Saturday. It's not like they can run away or anything.
I'm tired. I didn't sleep well because I did something I don't believe I've ever done before. I woke myself up by talking in my sleep. I was still talking when I woke up but I don't know what I was saying. Now that's frustrating, it could have been the lotto numbers or the winner of the Melbourne Cup. Don't laugh, my sister regularly dreams the winner of the Caulfield Cup and then takes another horse because it has better odds. I don't know how many times I've told her to at least put $5 on the damn thing.
And I still have Malware annoying me even after paying for a programme to clean the computer. It says I'm clear, I say I'm not. But it did clean up 1500 odd bits of whatever to make the old girl run faster. I'm even trying out the pro version of AVG for 30 days and that's not doing anything. It seems I'll have to go in and dig the beast out with my bare hands. I don't know exactly where I picked it up but it was a blog I've never been to before and all of a sudden, I had this and that popping up everywhere and pages being re-directed. I delete history, use CCleaner after every session and now the new SparkTrust. That's also a trap because when I paid it automatically signed me up for renewals which I have to stop myself. Unfortunately it won't let me login or create an account to stop the renewal so off went an email for them to do something. I bet some little 12 year old hacker is pissing himself laughing in a basement somewhere.
And after a lovely sunny day, a thunderstorm is threatening and tomorrow when I have to go out, it's going to be cold and probably rain. I hate spring.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Shingles.
Shingles, a nasty little blot on the human form not to mention a painful one.
It comes from childhood chicken pox, where the virus leaches into the nervous system and remains dormant until triggered. It then multiplies and travels along the nerves to the skin and erupts into blisters.
Usually the rash and blisters appear around the waist and on one side of the body but it can appear on the face and head. The pain is intense, throbbing and keeps on going for weeks or months. There are complications of light sensitivity, flulike symptoms, adominal pain, diarrhoea, chills, fever, swollen glands or joint pain, headache, confusion and drowsiness.
Researchers believe physical and emotional stressors weaken the immune system and contribute to the onset of the disease. If it hits the eyes, there is the danger of drooping eyelid, loss of eye motion, corneal ulcers and vision problems. If it goes into the ear, bad bad news.
Guess who has Shingles? Not me, thank the Great Goddess but mother. Doc Marvin noticed a small scaley patch on her forehead and sent for the proper medication at once. She didn't remember having Shingles before but me, being the file for all things Mother, rang the surgery to tell them when and how severe. It's really weird that on Tuesday when I was there I was telling her about Shingles and the new treatments and what causes it.
STRESS,
Annie Joyce of the glass cutting voice, dying beside her because the shit doctor wouldn't do anything.
New roomie (2 died in the last 6 weeks) is not only a sleep talker but if she wakes up, she walks and Mum's been ringing the bell for the nurse in charge. I did my block and told mum to let the woman fall over.
Old roomie's memory is now so bad she can't remember if day is night or if she had dinner. Middle of the night and she's asking mum to ring the bell because she hasn't been fed. She did have her own bell but they disconnected it. She then used the bed up and down control instead until she upped it too much and slid out onto her ample backside causing midnight mayhem.
The lovely tea lady, who has been giving mum crumpets for supper and buying them out of her own pocket, was dobbed in by a snitching bitch on staff when it was none of her business. Guess who was extremely upset on hearing about this and stressed out that a friend was in trouble.
The old girl also has congestion in the chest, another complication and her immune system isn't the best. Don't talk about nutrition, snitching bitch has been doing the cooking while fat useless chef has been off sick. The only time a meal was good was when an agency chef was brought in when snitching bitch was also off sick. I know why she really looked forward to that crumpet supper.
I noticed a spot on her face last week but put it down to some idiot bringing in flowers with pollen when I've repeatedly told them she's allergic to pollens. And I noticed how drowsy she was during the afternoon and since joint pain is always with her, didn't take much notice when she said the new lifting machine was making it worse. I'll see her on Friday and I'm taking crumpets with me, with her name on the packet.
Just to round off the post, I'm going to kill the person who walked a camel along my nature strip last night, in the dark. It had to be a camel, it left enough crap to fertilize the entire Sahara Desert. There was hardly enough room to park the bin and not have to wade through it and I only just got the bin out before the storm hit.
And not a fecking piece of chocolate in the house. I tell you shredded wheatmeal biscuits do not de-stress. Tomorrow I shop and I'll be looking for the biggest piece of lemon meringue pie I can find. Speaking of tarts, anyone catch last night's Great British Bake Off? I tell you green-eyed Rob with the dark hair can bake my cookies any day and I thought I would just drool over the cakes.
It comes from childhood chicken pox, where the virus leaches into the nervous system and remains dormant until triggered. It then multiplies and travels along the nerves to the skin and erupts into blisters.
Usually the rash and blisters appear around the waist and on one side of the body but it can appear on the face and head. The pain is intense, throbbing and keeps on going for weeks or months. There are complications of light sensitivity, flulike symptoms, adominal pain, diarrhoea, chills, fever, swollen glands or joint pain, headache, confusion and drowsiness.
Researchers believe physical and emotional stressors weaken the immune system and contribute to the onset of the disease. If it hits the eyes, there is the danger of drooping eyelid, loss of eye motion, corneal ulcers and vision problems. If it goes into the ear, bad bad news.
Guess who has Shingles? Not me, thank the Great Goddess but mother. Doc Marvin noticed a small scaley patch on her forehead and sent for the proper medication at once. She didn't remember having Shingles before but me, being the file for all things Mother, rang the surgery to tell them when and how severe. It's really weird that on Tuesday when I was there I was telling her about Shingles and the new treatments and what causes it.
STRESS,
Annie Joyce of the glass cutting voice, dying beside her because the shit doctor wouldn't do anything.
New roomie (2 died in the last 6 weeks) is not only a sleep talker but if she wakes up, she walks and Mum's been ringing the bell for the nurse in charge. I did my block and told mum to let the woman fall over.
Old roomie's memory is now so bad she can't remember if day is night or if she had dinner. Middle of the night and she's asking mum to ring the bell because she hasn't been fed. She did have her own bell but they disconnected it. She then used the bed up and down control instead until she upped it too much and slid out onto her ample backside causing midnight mayhem.
The lovely tea lady, who has been giving mum crumpets for supper and buying them out of her own pocket, was dobbed in by a snitching bitch on staff when it was none of her business. Guess who was extremely upset on hearing about this and stressed out that a friend was in trouble.
The old girl also has congestion in the chest, another complication and her immune system isn't the best. Don't talk about nutrition, snitching bitch has been doing the cooking while fat useless chef has been off sick. The only time a meal was good was when an agency chef was brought in when snitching bitch was also off sick. I know why she really looked forward to that crumpet supper.
I noticed a spot on her face last week but put it down to some idiot bringing in flowers with pollen when I've repeatedly told them she's allergic to pollens. And I noticed how drowsy she was during the afternoon and since joint pain is always with her, didn't take much notice when she said the new lifting machine was making it worse. I'll see her on Friday and I'm taking crumpets with me, with her name on the packet.
Just to round off the post, I'm going to kill the person who walked a camel along my nature strip last night, in the dark. It had to be a camel, it left enough crap to fertilize the entire Sahara Desert. There was hardly enough room to park the bin and not have to wade through it and I only just got the bin out before the storm hit.
And not a fecking piece of chocolate in the house. I tell you shredded wheatmeal biscuits do not de-stress. Tomorrow I shop and I'll be looking for the biggest piece of lemon meringue pie I can find. Speaking of tarts, anyone catch last night's Great British Bake Off? I tell you green-eyed Rob with the dark hair can bake my cookies any day and I thought I would just drool over the cakes.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Dreams.
I hate falling asleep in the afternoon I always wake up feeling like something the cat dragged in instead of being full of zing,
So phone rings, waking me up which is why the dream was so vivid.
I am on the veldt, in Africa, on safari, on foot. Actually nightmare considering I'm the right size for lion food and safari is not my thing unless I'm toting an elephant gun through the lobby of the Windsor Hotel on the way to my suite.
So, on the veldt, I feel the need to pee, really need, desperate. I keep finding bushes to hide behind but the gazelles also find me and gallop past.
So gazelles galloping, I should forget them and pee but gazelles gallop when chased by larger things with teeth and appetites. I move to another bush, gazelles gallop. Oh the need to pee!
Phone rings, mother, naturally. And I really do need to pee. And I hear gazelles galloping.
No gazelles, two kids on skateboards outside my fence.
No lions.
Lord it was nice to pee in peace.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Blogger stole my blog.
Every time I tried to write a post, blogger said I'd logged out somewhere else, would I like to sign in again. If I said yes, it directed me to dashboard where there was no place to sign in, if I clicked close, the page I needed wouldn't load. I managed to find the compose page address hidden somewhere else and opened the door there. It's now telling me an error occurred while trying to save, I can try again or ignore warning. I am ignoring. I've done two virus scans, nothing showed up except an invitation to upgrade with money.
The dvd player, has something wrong with it. It plays the background music, various noises but not the people speaking. I thought the new dvd was defective but trying another was the same. The manual isn't helpful and the BOH hasn't yet hooked up the sound system. He called in yesterday to do it but the baby had fallen asleep in the car and I refused to let him break rule number one, let sleeping babies lie. He did put my curbside rescue tv out on the nature strip for the hard rubbish collection for someone else to rescue. Not much in the way of good pickings this year although I managed to snaffle a very new lamp shade of an unfortunate burnt orange colour which will come up nicely.
Another of mum's roomies has popped her clogs. She had a stroke, just a small one at first when she fell face flat in her dinner but steadily declined over a week. Strange not to hear that voice so soft when it usually could cut through plate glass. Something has gone very wrong with the Home.
I'm going on mother's observations here, but a doctor wasn't called immediately neither was her daughter. Over the week the old dear became more and more distressed and in pain. Her doctor came, said there was nothing to be done and did not order morphine to ease the pain, her daughter demanded a second opinion and morphine was given so Annie Joyce slid silently away. It appears that Doc Marvin is the only one who has it on record that if anything out of the ordinary happens with my mother he is to be called immediately. I know he's the only doctor that comes weekly to check on her. My sister has medical Power of Attorney for me and she is a believer in bucket loads of painkillers towards the end.
As for me, well it's been a very bad month. Fortunately while there's food in the fridge, I never get to the suicidal end stage but it's been a close run thing these past weeks. I have no friends to talk to and emailing blogmates when they all have their own trouble seems an intrusion. Talk to my sister. The sister who has just had holidays and did not tell me, did not ring and say, coffee? beer at the pub?, nothing, not a word. Talking to Doc Marvin is an option but I don't know what to say or where to start in the allocated 10 minutes. Of course I could sum it up in a few words, I've put on too much weight since I was diagnosed with diabetes, I'm depressed but not able to get out of the house to exercise because I'm too frightened to get to the front gate unless it's to get in a taxi, I hate my mother, I hate my sister and I hate my son for dying on me. That was one thing that really killed me on election day, going to the school and getting overwhelmed with memories, so much so that I could barely walk without wanting to throw up. I even by-passed the sausage sizzle and the cake stall. I walked home holding on to fences until I had a cup of coffee at the shop and sat for a while in the sun until my heart found it's way back into my body. I held on to more fences to get home.
I haven't really picked up since then.
I've barely been able to get dressed but mother is always calling. Showering is fun until the water goes cold and I have to get out and go through the hurting bits of drying the mountain. Nothing is working without several ouches and bad language. I should be grateful for the cat, if I didn't have to feed him I wouldn't get out of bed, he makes me function. I was happier, felt healthier and had a big but reasonably stable weight until I was diagnosed with Diabetes now it's all blood tests, pills, and anxiety about everything. I'm bombarded with conflicting advice from all sides and the bastards keep moving the goal posts. After being told not to use diet drinks or slimming bars, it's now been decided that this is okay for a fast weight loss to begin with. I was told off for doing this, really told off but now it's okay.
Enough about me. I wonder how Tones is going, bunking down with the boys? Can you imagine what he would have said if Julia had booked a room with the CWA. And Julie Bishop, she's not going to pay over 30 grand for a first class seat to USA, business class is fine with her like the rest of us don't know she'll be upgraded for free. Bronwyn Bishop, our new Speaker, she's going to pull them into line and civilise Parliament as it should be. Good luck on that Bron. It's all a noxious mess but I'm glad Julia had her say at last.
The dvd player, has something wrong with it. It plays the background music, various noises but not the people speaking. I thought the new dvd was defective but trying another was the same. The manual isn't helpful and the BOH hasn't yet hooked up the sound system. He called in yesterday to do it but the baby had fallen asleep in the car and I refused to let him break rule number one, let sleeping babies lie. He did put my curbside rescue tv out on the nature strip for the hard rubbish collection for someone else to rescue. Not much in the way of good pickings this year although I managed to snaffle a very new lamp shade of an unfortunate burnt orange colour which will come up nicely.
Another of mum's roomies has popped her clogs. She had a stroke, just a small one at first when she fell face flat in her dinner but steadily declined over a week. Strange not to hear that voice so soft when it usually could cut through plate glass. Something has gone very wrong with the Home.
I'm going on mother's observations here, but a doctor wasn't called immediately neither was her daughter. Over the week the old dear became more and more distressed and in pain. Her doctor came, said there was nothing to be done and did not order morphine to ease the pain, her daughter demanded a second opinion and morphine was given so Annie Joyce slid silently away. It appears that Doc Marvin is the only one who has it on record that if anything out of the ordinary happens with my mother he is to be called immediately. I know he's the only doctor that comes weekly to check on her. My sister has medical Power of Attorney for me and she is a believer in bucket loads of painkillers towards the end.
As for me, well it's been a very bad month. Fortunately while there's food in the fridge, I never get to the suicidal end stage but it's been a close run thing these past weeks. I have no friends to talk to and emailing blogmates when they all have their own trouble seems an intrusion. Talk to my sister. The sister who has just had holidays and did not tell me, did not ring and say, coffee? beer at the pub?, nothing, not a word. Talking to Doc Marvin is an option but I don't know what to say or where to start in the allocated 10 minutes. Of course I could sum it up in a few words, I've put on too much weight since I was diagnosed with diabetes, I'm depressed but not able to get out of the house to exercise because I'm too frightened to get to the front gate unless it's to get in a taxi, I hate my mother, I hate my sister and I hate my son for dying on me. That was one thing that really killed me on election day, going to the school and getting overwhelmed with memories, so much so that I could barely walk without wanting to throw up. I even by-passed the sausage sizzle and the cake stall. I walked home holding on to fences until I had a cup of coffee at the shop and sat for a while in the sun until my heart found it's way back into my body. I held on to more fences to get home.
I haven't really picked up since then.
I've barely been able to get dressed but mother is always calling. Showering is fun until the water goes cold and I have to get out and go through the hurting bits of drying the mountain. Nothing is working without several ouches and bad language. I should be grateful for the cat, if I didn't have to feed him I wouldn't get out of bed, he makes me function. I was happier, felt healthier and had a big but reasonably stable weight until I was diagnosed with Diabetes now it's all blood tests, pills, and anxiety about everything. I'm bombarded with conflicting advice from all sides and the bastards keep moving the goal posts. After being told not to use diet drinks or slimming bars, it's now been decided that this is okay for a fast weight loss to begin with. I was told off for doing this, really told off but now it's okay.
Enough about me. I wonder how Tones is going, bunking down with the boys? Can you imagine what he would have said if Julia had booked a room with the CWA. And Julie Bishop, she's not going to pay over 30 grand for a first class seat to USA, business class is fine with her like the rest of us don't know she'll be upgraded for free. Bronwyn Bishop, our new Speaker, she's going to pull them into line and civilise Parliament as it should be. Good luck on that Bron. It's all a noxious mess but I'm glad Julia had her say at last.
Thursday, September 05, 2013
Spring Madness.
The spring rash has started. I've been careful not to walk in the grass because Eric the Mower hasn't been and it's getting a bit out of hand, so no rash on the legs. Great lumping cat comes in last night plonks his head down on my chest and goes to sleep and by the time I'm going to bed, rash is up and going. I know where's he's been, I could smell it. He's been rolling in the flowering Jasmine on the back fence. I just forgot I had on a dress with a low neckline. Of course it could be the election that's making me break out in itches. What a load of prats. If I never see Clive Palmer's face again it will be a good thing. I'm not watching the polls, I'll be watching Harry Potter and eating chocolate to calm my nerves. I might take a peek to see who is winning in LaTrobe because the Lib there is someone I detest and if he does win, I hope he celebrates so much he falls over a cliff.
Good news though, coming past the local school, there is a big sign: Saturday, BBQ and Cake Stall and underneath, polling booth. Priorities right on the mark.
And Andrew your taste in men is appalling so you're not ever getting one for your birthday again. Nothing wrong with redheads either as long as their eyes are green. Now put your comments back to pop-up box, I miss insulting you so much.
I see footballers haven't learnt much this season but setting fire to a dwarf is lowering the bar to a new low. Never mind what they're injecting themselves with, why doesn't someone test whatever is in the water they're drinking. Oh silly me, water? Test the beer, vodka, gin, whiskey or whatever else they're pouring down their gullets. String up the next idiot from the goal post by his feet for the duration of the match and maybe some brain matter will dribble down to where it should be.
Crap I hate football and whining cricketers, if they ever take up politics, I'll take up offshore swimming.
Good news though, coming past the local school, there is a big sign: Saturday, BBQ and Cake Stall and underneath, polling booth. Priorities right on the mark.
And Andrew your taste in men is appalling so you're not ever getting one for your birthday again. Nothing wrong with redheads either as long as their eyes are green. Now put your comments back to pop-up box, I miss insulting you so much.
I see footballers haven't learnt much this season but setting fire to a dwarf is lowering the bar to a new low. Never mind what they're injecting themselves with, why doesn't someone test whatever is in the water they're drinking. Oh silly me, water? Test the beer, vodka, gin, whiskey or whatever else they're pouring down their gullets. String up the next idiot from the goal post by his feet for the duration of the match and maybe some brain matter will dribble down to where it should be.
Crap I hate football and whining cricketers, if they ever take up politics, I'll take up offshore swimming.
Wednesday, September 04, 2013
Just give me Pavlova
Meringue
2egg whites
Pinch of salt
110gcaster sugar
1teaspoon corn flour
½teaspoon sweet apple vinegar
¼teaspoon freeze dried thyme powder
Lemon and Wild Thyme Honey Cream
90glemon juice
165gwild thyme honey, such as ‘J Friend and Co’
2eggs
45gwhite sugar
1titanium-strength gelatine leaf
110gcold butter, diced
125gpure cream (45% milk fat)
Thyme Ice
100gwhite sugar
½lemon, zest finely grated
10glemon thyme leaves
2gvitamin C or citric acid
475mlwater
50mlfresh fennel juice (add a pinch of vitamin C when juicing)
50mllemon juice
Salt, to taste
Pumpkin
1wide piece Kent pumpkin, seeds removed
125ghoney dew honey, such as ‘J Friend and Co’
125mlwarm water
To Assemble
3-4 mandarins, segmented
80mlwild thyme honey, such as ‘J Friend and Co’
3-4 pieces freeze dried apple
To see how to make these ingredients into the dessert you mustgo here and try not to faint.
And this was the only photograph I could find that showed George and his suit of strange things.
Monday, September 02, 2013
It's dusk.
Anyway speaking of owls, I'm pleased to see that there is a Harry Potter movie on Saturday night and I will not have to endure the election agony. I have never seen so many weird parties contesting for the Senate or the House of Reps. every thing except a good drover's dog. Still it's taken over from the football rubbish and the cricket crap and it ends much sooner. Whoever wins will need a slave to ride behind, reminding him that he is not a god just someone who can be replaced in three years. Perhaps it's time we had that tattooed on the inside of certain sporting identities and politicians eyelids. That's the trouble with blokes, treat them like gods and they immediately believe it, must be in the genes. Women are more sensible, we don't have to be told, we just know we are.
I was going to say something about the Masterchef finale but I'm still washing my eyeballs in saline trying to remove the image of George in, well, um, dear lord what was the man wearing? A bikie tuxedo, leather sleeves and collar and bowtie united with some sort of sackcloth. It distracted me from the food, and you all know how hard it is to distract me when food's involved. I would be a top masterchef because I have never beaten the crap out of cream like those two did last night and what is the point of ruining meringue by putting pumpkin anywhere near it. I had more fun looking at the losers lining the balcony who couldn't quite manage to hide the "shit I should be down there" faces when they didn't think the camera was on them.
Now seriously let's just drop the reality shows for the rest of the year and put on something we'd really like to watch. It's a shame there's no time for Abbott and Rudd in gladiator gear in the middle of the MCG, with real swords and a lion or two, winner gets to tell more lies than the loser.
Bring on the sausage sizzle at the polling booth on Saturday or I'll be very unhappy.
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